


The Ballad of Timmy and J.D.

by croonerboy



Series: The Outbreak Chronicles [1]
Category: Alternate Universe-Zombie Apocalypse - Fandom, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croonerboy/pseuds/croonerboy
Summary: This is a Zombie Fic/Love Story about 2 characters spun off of another work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705335#bookmark-formThough the 2 main characters are based on real-life people, they are not based in any fandom. There are Hockey RPF moments in it however. This was written by request.
Series: The Outbreak Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026637
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. A Travelogue of Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [Matriaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matriaya/pseuds/Matriaya). Log in to view. 



It was a chilly night, and I was still cold to the bone from the skinny dip I had after the last supply run into the nearest infected zone. My teeth were chattering, but even so, I could not bring myself to put the same guts covered clothes back on, I had been wearing all day. Even a good soak and rinse in the river, did not rid them of the particularly unctuous smell only week-old re-animated flesh has. So here I lay wrapped in my bedroll, praying my weariness takes over and pulls me into a deep sleep, long before the cold makes me give in and put on every piece of clothing I own just to approach some sort of reasonable body temperature. It was in this moment, when I was squeezing my eyes shut, trying to imagine a beachside place in my mind, the sun cooking me like a piece of bacon, when I heard a kind of rustling at my tent’s makeshift door. I open my eyes and he is there, just his head poking through. He averts his eyes when I open mine, looking down in embarrassment. Suddenly aware he may have intruded on something.

“Uh—would it be ok with you if I bunked in here tonight? I can smell the rain comin’ and I ain’t too keen on soaking through my only decent clothes.”

He extends his arm to reveal a smallish pack that is strapped to the roll of his sleeping bag. It’s barely enough belongings to worry about, but there is an unspoken draw between us. His voice betrays an honesty which is completely irresistible. He almost sounds too earnest. As if he is not aware— should I let him stay, we might end up acting on the feelings we have slowly building between us. 

“Sure.”, I say. Immediately regretting my offer. I realize I am wearing nothing under this sleeping bag. I am so self-conscious, I visibly squirm. He notices and says, “You sure?” I nod. He enters the tent. Setting his clothes pack just inside the entrance. He unrolls his bedding right next to mine. Although the tent is smallish, there was enough room for at least one other person. _‘Dear GOD, why so close?’_ I wonder to myself. _‘Does he know?’_

He starts to strip down. “I usually sleep in the nude. I hope that’s alright.”, but he is already completely naked before he finishes asking my permission. His body is large and imposing. He is tall, and rough hewn. Not overly muscled, and covered in a slight layer of fat, making him look both strong, and cuddly at the same time.

He turns around and looks at me for a moment. I can’t help but stare at his long frame and swinging dick. He pretends not to notice me looking him up and down. He nestles in next to me, slipping into his sleeping bag.We are both shivering and unable to sleep, both unsettled by the cold and our thoughts of the close proximity to one another.

He whispers, “You know we might be a lot warmer if we zipped our bags together. Body heat an’ all. If ya want.” It’s a clumsy attempt, but I don’t refuse the offer. I nod and he proceeds to get up and unzip his bedroll fully. I can see he is semi-hard in the soft light seeping through the tent. He unzips my bag, and pulls back the top layer to reveal my pale naked body. He stops for a moment just to take me in. I am still. Caught in the intense gaze taking in my exposed and shivering form, but also looking into me. He is studied and intentional as if he is trying to decide on my worth.

He gets back to the work of zipping the two layers together, then when it is in arms reach, he tells me to scoot over and tucks in before zipping us neatly inside. We both let out a sigh, staring up into the overhang, the moon’s outline the only bright spot against the shadowed and swaying tree branches. They rustle, approximating the vague sound of applause as the rain begins to join in.

===========================

Over the last few weeks, there were longing looks, sideways smiles, chuckles in response to things I was saying to others in our camp, not in any way in conversations including him. It is as if he is keyed in to the sound of my voice. Listening carefully to see what I might say next. Hoping for the next choice sound bite he might find some small happiness in.

Then there are my own clumsy attempts to make actual conversation with him, most of which cause him to get up from his seat around the dinner fire, and suddenly be urgently in need of some forgotten item he left somewhere decidedly far enough away from me. And then tonight, something changed. I came up to the makeshift cooking fire to fill my bowl with whatever dish he had managed to whip up tonight.

“Smells good.”, I say as truthfully as I can.

“Thanks.”, he says in kind, although we both know, with what limited foodstuffs and ingredients there are available, most of our meals are suspiciously similar.

Meals which consist mostly of what small game we can snare, along with any wild mushrooms we can safely identify, and some minimal grasses which can approximate a semblance of spice. Still, after a long day making supply runs deep in the hot zone, anything smells good as long as it is reasonably warmed through and somewhat edible. 

“It’s not quite done, but you can have a taste, if ya want.”, he offers. This may be the most I have ever heard him say at one time up to this point. He holds out a spoon, and when I don’t take it from him immediately, he dips it in to the pot, and brings a spoonful of the stew up to his lips, purses them and gives the portion a soft blow to cool it. I stare wide eyed. Everything is moving is slow motion. He stares into my eyes, and I am certain he can see the truth in them. Desire. I unconsciously lick my lips, and open my mouth, as he brings the spoon to my lips. His free hand is cradling the spoon, and nearly touching my chin. I take the broth like communion. It is a religious experience. The stew is warm, andI take the small amount of liquid and some lump of vegetable into my mouth, but I am so intent on his face, his closeness, the hammering of my heart in my chest, I half forget to swallow. I gobble at the spoon trying to catch the bulk of it before it is lost.

“Ope! Careful.”, he says. Then he takes the rag wrapped over his shoulder and carefully dabs at the corner of my slightly open and wanting mouth. I am sweating profusely now, more likely from the fireworks in my gut, my rush of lust bursting crimson on my cheeks, than from the fire itself. He smiles at me. He rarely smiles. He is always stoic and stern. The strong silent type. My type.

He places the spoon back into the pot with a clatter.

I realize I am gaping at him like an idiot when he finally breaks this moment and says, “Stay there a sec. I’ll be right back.”

I snap out of my daze, and realize how hard I am. I do my best to readjust myself, but he is back all too quickly and almost catches me. I look up at him and turn away. He is holding the rag, now clearly dripping with water, by both ends, spinning it into a tight snake spiral. I have flashbacks to the high school locker room. Boys snapping each other in the ass, cheeks steaming and pink from the showers. My erection flips a bit at this and I pull my shirt down in an attempt to cover my obvious bulge.

“Come’ere.” He turns me to face him and wraps the damp and cool cloth around my neck. “You looked a little warm.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” God I sound so dumb. He fills my bowl and I turn around and take a seat on one of the makeshift fallen log couches we have arranged around the fire.

“Kettle’s on!” He yells to the rest of the crew. My crotch is more than a little soaked through so I hold my food over it and place my bowl on my lap when I sit down. I hope no one, especially J.D. has taken notice.

There are exclamations of “Thank God!” And “it’s about time” and “I am starving”, and most of the meal goes on as it usually does.

Mercifully, he takes a seat across from me and not right next to me, so I can eat in peace. I finally find my voice, and I’m able to swap stories with TK and Patty, two guys I feel comfortable around, and who are easy to get along with. J.D. listens, laughing in the right places, always somewhat to himself, occasionally catching my eye. Every time he does this I slow my speech, almost losing my train of thought, and I begin to wonder if anyone notices.

=============================

We stare into each others eyes for a long time. It’s natural for him to not say anything, just as natural for him to stay silent as it is for me to want to say a million things. The moonlight seeping through the fabric of the tent, makes his eyes which are normally pretty dark blue, into a deep violet. It’s a bottomless form of purple I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I study it for a while.

We are lying so close together underneath the sleeping bag, it feels like we’re touching even though we’re not. It’s that same feeling you get when someone is watching you from afar. Like your presence can feel their presence. I don’t know how long it is before he reaches up his hand and touches my cheek. When the kiss comes, it is so slow and steady and soft, time slows down and it’s a minute before I realize I’m not responding to it. And then suddenly like the tide pulling me out to sea, I fall into it. 

We kiss for what seems like ages. And when we pull apart, I am breathless. He tastes like sweet herb and the meat we had for supper. It almost makes me hungry for more food. My stomach whines in protest, but that hunger is soon replaced with another more imminent kind, as he begins to kiss down my neck, across my shoulders, to my nipple. He flicks lightly at it with his tongue and my fingers lace through his hair and hold him there. I take in a sharp breath and he continues across to the other now stiff nipple, whetting it and blowing light, warm breaths on it as he hovers there.

He continues his travelogue of kisses, zig-zagging to all the landmarks of my body, exploring every exposed inch of my gooseflesh. Slow and steady and purposeful, his mouth does things to me which take my mind away from here. Away to the time before the plagues, a place of old lovers, desirous looks, and private clandestine fantasies. Moments frozen forever in my mind, now thawed and vibrant, immediate and fresh as they have ever been. These images explode unbidden, imbued with new color and electricity. I can almost touch them, their impressions brought to life by this newfound, yet all too familiar touch.

I feel suspended in time. It feels like the Old World, a place where making love or having sex is common. But there are so few of us now. This is rare. Just the simple act of two bodies close together. Expressing love— actually making love, is in this time more precious and valuable than all the other times I experienced it before combined.

I feel like the luckiest man alive. There are moments when he is caressing me with his mouth, where I have wants, and I think about directing him. But before the thought finishes crossing my mind, he is already there. It’s like he instinctively knows what I want before I want it. His mouth on me is like silk against my most sensitive aching places. He engulfs me,and for a moment I can’t think of anything but the jolt of pleasure running through my body—washing away all its pains, physical and emotional, softening the sharp edges of what I didn’t even realize was an utter sadness and longing for the world that was.

When he finally brings me to my full, I’ve become one with him in the darkness. I squeeze my eyes shut, and behind my lids I am lost in a sea of stars. I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from screaming out. Having to hold in screams is common in this world. It tends to draw the zombies. I want to scream his name so bad. I want to say I love him. I want to say “Oh my God! Oh my fucking God! I’m going to come! I love you J.D.! Do you hear me?! I love you!“ But instead, I bite down on my lip so hard I draw blood.

My body convulses and my hips press forward, pushing my pelvis up against his face so hard, I worry I might hurt him. He pushes his face against me and stays there, enveloping my pulsing erection, taking me as deep into his throat as he can. I can feel the rapid intakes of air from his nostrils as they rustle the fine hairs or my pubic crown. The length of his throat is wrapped around my hardness like a glove, the flat of his tongue wriggling against the underside of my shaft, coaxing every last drop of need from me, until I finally stop bucking and collapse against the ground.

My breath is racing, forcing its way in and out of my lungs, puffing out my cheeks, and hissing between my teeth in such a rapid succession, I start to hyperventilate. It is some time before it slowly starts to subside. I catch my breath in waves, my body and mind slowly rocking back in to reality as the passion recedes.He draws his mouth from my cock and kisses the tip, sucking me clean as he does so. Slowly he kisses along my treasure trail, back up to my mouth, back to his home. He belongs here. We both do. I can taste myself on his tongue. It’s salty and slightly metallic. I don’t yet know it, but my cum mixed with my blood, and the sweetness of his saliva is a taste I will crave for the rest of my life.


	2. The Warbling On The Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, J.D. decides to surprise Timmy with breakfast in bed. There is something besides love in the air.

J.D. was up early, despite the lack of sleep. In the early morning light, he makes his way into the forest of trees, and hunts down what ever he can find. He wades through the brambles, and stops short for a moment. There is a warbling sound on the wind. He freezes. After a moment, it comes again. It could be an animal of some kind, but he can’t help but have the sinking feeling it might be one of the infected. In any case, it doesn’t happen a third time. Still, he feels for the pistol at his hip, just to make sure it’s at the ready. Hopefully, if there are undead, they are not headed this way. It’d be a shame to pull camp. This is the longest they have ever managed to stay in one place. It’s got water and a decent surround of trees, and just enough open land to set up sleeping quarters. They’d be hard pressed to find better anyplace close by. So much of the available land is now a hot zone, or has been burned up in an attempt to slow the advancement of the plague. And for once, he finally feels like he might want to settle down and rest. He’d never admit it, but for the first time since Howard died, he thinks he might actually be able to begin to be happy again. He might want to see if maybe, he could make it work with Tim. It’s early days, but so far, it feels right. He feels right. And considering the lack of any real options, it is somewhat of a miracle they found each other. It confounds him. But there it is, and there isn’t any use denying it.

He manages to scrounge up some decent sized eggs from a nearby ducks nest, and cook up some leftover meat along side them over the remains of the fire from the night before. He stokes the coals a bit with twigs to get the fire hot enough, then sets the cast iron pan over it, leaving it sit while he goes off to pluck a few berries and some wildflowers. Just to garnish the plate, and make it look nice. He isn’t himself a romantic, but he knows Tim is and he would likely appreciate the effort.

He pulled some chicory he ground by hand from his private stash, and brewed it. Once it was hot, he carried the meal into the tent and set it gently down next to Timmy. Try as he might to be quiet, he managed to clink the dinnerware around enough to cause him to stir.

“Hey.”, Timmy said. His mouth yawned wide as he wiped at his eyes and pulled a hand through his mangled hair.

“Thought maybe you might like a little food in yer belly. It’s down to what’s left, until we make a run today. Plus a lil extra.”, J.D. sits down cross-legged and hand-feeds Timmy the cup, blowing on it slightly before bringing it to his lip.

“Is that coffee?”, Timmy says. He is slightly hopeful.

“Nah. It’s Chicory. Almost as good.”, J.D. says.

Tim takes a sip of the hot, dark liquid. It is bitter and sweet.

“I rustled up some—honey— for you. The sweetness takes the edge off.”, J.D. says.

For a second, Timmy almost thinks he is being called ‘honey’ as an endearment.

He takes a another, more rounded mouthful, sitting upright, grabbing at the cup and tries not to make a face, but it is hard not to.

“It’s not too bad.”, he says, coughing a bit. It is part truth and part lie. Still, it’s hot liquid and in the cold morning air, it does warm him some.It’s not by far as good as actual coffee, but he can’t deny the gesture. He can’t say for sure, but he’s pretty certain he’s never had breakfast in bed before.

J.D. chuckles. “I ‘spose it takes some gettin’ used to.”

Timmy nods and smiles up at him, choking on the next sip, as he laughs himself. J.D. pounds him on the back. He feels the coolness of his skin and takes off one of his layers and drapes it around Timmy for warmth. Timmy looks up from his plate, his eyes locking on J.D.’s for a moment. Timmy’s mouth curls up in a sly smile. J.D. suddenly feels like he is a canary caught in the sights of a very hungry cat. He looks away and gets up to leave.

“Tell ya what—you eat all that up now. You’re gonna need your strength if we are ever gonna get any decent huntin’ done today. I’ll leave you to it. I gotta go start breakfast for the rest o’ these sleepyheads. And fer God’s sake, git some clothes on ‘fore I ravage ya ‘agi’n. Yer makin’ me feel all squirrelly.”, he says, taking one last look over his shoulder before slipping out of the tent.


	3. Down In The Tall Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy and J.D. go out hunting for food, and get more than they bargain for.

J.D. glanced over at Timmy, the two of them hunched down in the tall grass, and motioned for him to flank the other side of the buck a few feet away. It had not taken notice of them yet as it foraged, nose to the ground. If it did decide to run, they’d have a better chance at hitting it, from two vantage points.

Timmy crept out along the tree line and got into position, then stuck a hand up to signal he was set.

J.D. put the deer in his sights. A decent hit at this range would likely wound it enough to be able to at least track it down. Based on its size it’ll likely take more than one shot, and if Timmy manages a good hit, then it’ll make them quite a few fine suppers, and maybe a decent blanket or wrap out of it’s hide.

J.D. takes a breath, then exhales, squeezing the trigger. Almost as if on cue, there is another shot from Timmy’s direction, and the animal drops straight down, landing hard on its side in the grass.

Timmy pops up and runs toward the kill giving a loud whoop and a holler. He gets to their prize and places a foot on it, shooting his rifle in to the air and giving another “Yah-hoo!”, and posing like a body builder, flexing his biceps, like he’s king of the forest.

Then there is that strange warble again, and this time it has an all too human quality. Then another, and echoing off that, another still. It’s hard to tell just how far away it is, but it’s enough to make J.D. stand bolt upright. He waves both his arms at Timmy who is still in mid-celebration. He is so proud of himself, he never sees the zombie coming at him from behind.

It reaches out and grabs him by the collar, and Timmy whirls around breaking free, then falls backwards as he tries to get a shot off. It is a moment before he realizes he needs to reload, having shot the other bullet into the air. He fumbles for the ammo and manages to get one in the chamber, but it’s too late to get a shot off before the undead is upon him, howling into his face.

Just when the zombie is close enough to take a bite out of him, the side of its skull explodes and it drops like a stone on top of him. He screams and wiggles his way out. J.D. is up now and hurtling toward him, his cowboy hat flying off, but he can see more of them now 2 or 3 at least coming out of the trees. Even on his best day, he knows he would never get them all before they reach Timmy. He manages to kill a couple more, and he can see Timmy clawing at the ground, trying to break free, but one of them has him by the foot. Slow as they are, they are strong as oxen once they get a good hold on you.

J.D. reaches Timmy, and cracks the skull of the zombie holding him by the ankle, but not before it manages to take a big bite out of his leg. Timmy’s scream of fear turns to a howl of pain, and before he knows it, J.D. has a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sound.

“Shhhhhh—shhhhhh! I know babe, I know, shhhh! More’ll come! It’s ok.. quiet now…I gotcha, I gotcha.”, J.D, cradles him close for a second his head against J.D.s chest. Then he lays him down and takes off his shirt. He tears it into strips and ties off Timmy’s leg above the knee as tight as he can, to stop the bleed and hopefully the infection from traveling. Transformation can be quick, but he takes a chance anyway. Throwing him over his shoulder, he caries Timmy all the way back to camp. When Ruth sees him approach, she knows in her heart something is wrong. She puts down her knitting and runs up to meet him. Likewise Travis and Patty get up from their seats around the fire and go to help carry Timmy. Patty grabs his sleeping bag and unrolls it to give him a soft place to lie down. They place Timmy on the bedroll and Ruth says, “I’ll go get some hot water, some bandages and whatever meds I can find.” TK and Patty look at Timmy’s wound and then to J.D..

“He almost got snatched, while we’s out huntin’, I didn’t get there quick enough.” , J.D. said. His voice was quavering as he repeated himself, “I didn’t get there quick enough.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, pacing back and forth. “God Dammit!”, he says kicking at the ground.

“Best thing for it is a bullet to the head.”, Ralph said, sipping his cup of whiskey. J.D. is on him, shoving him as hard as he can.

“How’s about I put a fuckin’ bullet in yer head, huh?!”, it takes both TK and Patty to hold him back. He is screaming and digging in so hard, they almost lose their grip on him. “Don’t you touch him, or I will put you down right here, right fuckin’ now!”

Ruth came back just about this time, and she rushed to help her husband. She set down the med supplies, and went to Ralph’s side.

“What is all this fuss about?!”, she said, hotly at J.D.

TK and Patty were still trying to calm him, as tore himself free of their grasp.

“He is not allowed anywhere near me ’r’ mine. You got that?!”, he said, poking a finger in her face before storming off in a huff.

TK and Patty looked at each other, and Patty said, “I’ll go.”, then walked off in J.D.’s direction.

“You all right, honey?”, Ruth said, smoothing her husband’s few wisps of hair on his nearly bald head.

“I’m fine—he made me spill the last of my damn whiskey.”, Ralph said, as she helped him to his feet. “Mark my words,” he said to TK, who was starting to clean and dress Timmy’s wound, “You don’t put him out of his misery now, we’re all gonna regret it. He’ll draw more of those brain eating bastards faster than shit draws flies. And I did not sign up to be a meal just because Brokeback Mountain over there has got a soft spot in his head and a hard spot in his pants. If you don’t put him down, then I will.”, he said. Ruth was guiding him back to their tent, when they were stopped dead.

“Ain’t no cause to be puttin’ anyone anywheres just yet.”, said Ms. Freddy. She crept up so slow and quiet like, they did not even notice her in the kerfuffle. She waved them off, and they continued on their way.

“I been on this earth when it was green and when it was wiped clean. I done tended to my own Mister back when he took sick with the ‘Z’. He lived a good long while and never turn’t. And he wasn’t half as spirited as this young one ya got right here.”, she said.

Timmy was twitching involuntarily, his skin had gone bluish-white and he was sweating profusely.

“Ain’t nothin’ but a lil witches brew and a lot of patience won’t cure. Plus, if I know’d anything, I know’d there’s nothing more powerful than a man with a good reason to live.” She stared off in the direction of Patty and J.D., watching them for a moment before she went on. “Get ‘im on the table and let’s have a look at ‘im.”, she said. Tk hoisted Timmy up and they made their way over to the rickety old picnic table they found at an abandoned park on one of their supply runs. He took off his shirt and folded it as best he could, slipping it under Timmy’s head as a pillow. Timmy made a soft moan, and thrashed a little bit.

“Shhh hush now. Hold him. ”, Ms. Freddy said to TK, as she adjusted her glasses and got her face up really close to Timmy’s. TK held Timmy’s head in both hands, keeping him still as Ms. Freddy pulled back his eyelids one at a time, then pinched his nostrils closed, causing him to open his mouth for air. She took a quick look down his throat to make sure it wasn’t swollen closed. TK tipped Timmy’s head back so she could get a better look.

“You’re a natural doctor, you are,” she said to TK who smiled up at her and shrugged. “You got surgeon’s hands. That’s good. We might need that.”, she said. TK suddenly worried what she might mean, but she held his gaze steady, and all he could do was nod. She could be quite determined when she wanted to be, and he wasn’t the first to learn not to argue with her once she has her mind set.

Once Patty had J.D. sufficiently cooled down, they made their way over to the table. J.D. called Timmy’s name aloud as he saw TK holding him by the head, Timmy’s arms and legs quivering. He grabbed Timmy’s hand tight and shot TK a stern look. Ms. Freddy put her hand on J.D.’s chest, right over his heart. He looked at her. His eyes were wide and misty.

“You know what coneflower is?”, she asked.

J.D. nodded, a wrinkle forming between his brows.

“What say, you go fetch me some?”, she said, soft, but firm.

It was more an order than a question. It took J.D. a moment to register, but it soon was clear what she meant.

“I’m on it!”, he said, a tremor in his voice. With a renewed vigor and a sense of purpose, he dashed off to find the medicine she requested.

“Patty darlin’, will you grab me a hand saw?”, Freddy said.

Patty nodded.

“And an axe.”, she said, putting up a finger to stop him in his tracks. She looked him dead in the eye.

“Yes ma’am.”, Patty said, shooting TK a nervous glance.


	4. Cut Along The Margin

Ms. Freddy traced along the cut line, showing Patty where Timmy’s infected leg needed to be severed.

“Right here. See that margin darlin’?”, Ms Freddy said.

Patty was sweating profusely. Although he’d put down quite a few zombies in his time here, he had never really had to cut into a living, breathing friend.

“It won’t get tough until you get down to the bone. That’s where it gets tricky.”, she said. Patty thought he was going to be sick when the teeth of the saw blade began to cut through Timmy’s flesh. When the blood began to run free it had a putrid smell, that made Patty stop and shake his head, trying to stop himself from gagging. He could feel his lunch coming up and he swallowed hard and breathed out a slow, shaky breath.

TK had a hold of Timmy’s upper body, even though he was unconscious. If for any reason he began to turn, it would be nearly impossible to keep him still.

J.D. approached them and increased his pace as he neared the table, carrying the coneflower Ms. Freddy requested. As he rushed for them, TK took his hands off of Timmy and stepped in between J.D. and the table, putting his hands up to slow him down.

“What the hell do ya think your doin’?!” , J.D. said. TK Put some pressure on his shoulders, and tried to calm him down.

“Hey, hey, hey, we’re just trying to save his live, ok?”, but TK’s words did not even reach him, as he looked accusingly at Ms. Freddy.

“I thought you said he was gonna be alright!?”, J.D. said, pushing against TK’s bracing grip.

“I said he might make it. I never said it was gonna be in one piece.”, Ms. Freddy said.

“You get off him!”, J.D. barked at Patty, as he overpowered TK, and went to Timmy’s side. He nearly knocked both TK and Ms. Freddy over as he bulldozed his way past them. Patty nearly threw the saw as he put his hands up and stumbled backward. J.D. looked like an angry bull whose eyes had just seen red.

“Honey, I’m here…you’re gonna be alright. I won’t let ‘em hurt you.” , J.D. said, taking Timmy by the hand, the flowers still in a stranglehold in the other.

“Darlin’, you ain’t doin’ him any favors by letting him suffer like this.”, Ms. Freddy said. She spoke carefully and quietly as she ran her hand down his forearm and to the fist full of coneflower.

“Let go—son. We got to get this boiled up at least. Ain’t nobody here tryin’ to hurt your boy.”, she took the bouquet from his hand, which had some other herbs and grasses as well.

“Ya did real good honey. I see ya got some extra too. It’ll make a fine poultice and brew, but it ain’t enough to save him if we don’ cut that bum leg. Now you move away, ya hear me? We ain’t got time to waste.”, she said close to his ear as she could. His eyes were locked on Timmy. She was not sure he was even hearing her. She did manage to calm him some, but he suddenly swept Timmy up in his arms and started carrying him off to their tent. TK tried to stop him, but his eyes were fiery and he knew there was nothing he could say to change his mind.

“Outta my way!”, he said so sharply, it made TK jump. TK stepped aside. TK, Patty and Ms. Freddy looked at each other for a moment. They all took a deep breath, and Ms. Freddy shook her head.

“You boys get ready to do what you gotta do, just in case.”, she said, giving them a look. TK and patty looked at each other, and nodded slightly at her. They went to grab their rifles and checked to see if they were loaded.

“I’ll take first watch.”, Patty said.

“I’m gonna go see if I can help, or at least try and talk some sense into him.”, TK said.

“Make it quick.”, Ms. Freddy said, sitting down in her chair by the fire. “Once he turns, it’s gonna happen fast. You be ready to do ‘em both if necessary.”, she said.

“I know, I know!”, TK said. He was trying to put the worst case scenario out of his mind. He felt for the jackknife in his pocket, just in case it did come to blows. He made his way to Timmy and J.D.’s tent and set his rifle against the tree just outside. Patty called after him. “Be careful, Babe.”, he said. TK looked back at him, and was taken by the pet name. He almost smiled. He nodded and ducked into the entrance, letting the cloth door fall closed behind him.

Patty took a seat near Ms. Freddy. “Whew.”, he said, as he sat down on the log, the firelight giving the sweat beading on his face a diamond-like sheen. He swept his arm across his brow, wiping some of the dampness away.

“Don’t fret too much. These things tend to work themselves out, one way or ’t’other.”, she said.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”, he said.

“You looked like you was about to shake yourself to bits, back there. I was about to put a spoon in your hand and see if you could whip me up a cake.”

She began to laugh and he did too in spite of himself.


	5. There Must Be Some Other Way

TK ducked under the flap of Timmy’s tent. He saw Timmy laying on the sleeping bag and J.D. holding his hand. Tears streamed down J.D.’s face, as he rocked gently back and forth, as he knelt there. Timmy’s breaths were becoming more labored.

“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be ok, you’re gonna be okay.”, J.D. said in a hushed voice as his mind raced. _There must be some other way…_ he thought to himself. He felt as if this whole thing was all his fault. It was stupid to be separated, especially when they were out on the border like that. He should’ve known better.

“Say—J…”, TK said, startling J.D. out of his thoughts.

“Sorry man.”, he said. “If you’re thinking what I think you are, well I have never seen any other way. And even if taking the leg works…” J.D. cut him off in mid-thought.

“He’s gonna make it! You hear me?!”, he said, looking accusingly at TK.

“Ok. Got it.”, TK said as he knelt down beside them, and put a hand on J.D.’s shoulder, making J.D. jerk away from his touch. 

“There isn’t much time. If I knew of any other way, believe me, I’d do it. Even Ms. Freddy has her doubts that a poultice or any known herbal medicine would work. We could try for a pharmacy, but you and I both know, if that was the answer, the world wouldn’t be in the place it is now.”, TK said.

“What if we—“, J.D. Started to say, before the sounds of gurgling from Timmy drew his thought away.

“Come on, bud…Please.”, TK said.

“Do it…”, said Timmy so quietly they nearly missed it.

Timmy’s eyelids fluttered open and he rasped again.

“Jus—do it.”, he said, before he fell unconscious again.

It took a full minute before J.D.’s stubbornness allowed him to release his grip on Timmy’s hand. He nodded, not looking away from Timmy’s face.

“Okay. Okay…”, he said.

Before TK went to help get Timmy up to carry him outside, J.D. had hoisted him up and over his shoulder. As they exited the tent, Patty and Ms. Freddy stood up. Ms. Freddy motioned them over to the table as Patty grabbed the saw and the ax.

J.D. laid him down on the table, and TK stood at the head, bracing Timmy’s shoulders. J.D. took his jack knife out of his pocket and rolled his bandana around it.

“Here babe, bite down on this here.”, he said, gently putting the bundle in between Timmy’s teeth.

“You ready, dear?”, Miss Freddy said to Patty. He nodded, but looked white as a sheet.

“Give it a good whack with the ax, then when you hit on bone, I’ll hand you the saw.”, she said. “There will be a good bit o’ blood so, keep your mouth closed.”, she said, placing a finger under his chin, and shutting his jaw. Until now he had not realized it had even gone slack. He raised his hand, ax held high and prepared to swing.

“I’ll do it.”, J.D. said. Patty halted, and lowered the ax, his hand shaking.

“You look like you’re worse off’n him. Besides, I have done plenty of cutting on deer and the like. I trust my own skill more’n anyone’s here.”, he said.

J.D. took the ax from Patty’s quaking grasp.

“Why don’t you go set a spell.”, he said.

Patty looked around for agreement from the other’s and then nodded before heading back to his seat by the fire.

“Why don’t you keep watch on that brew while you’re there? We’re gonna need it sooner rather than later.”, Ms. Freddy called after him.

J.D. came around, ax in one hand and took a firm hold on to Timmy’s leg with the other.

Just then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Ralph standing there, holding out a flask.

“I don’t know if he can even swallow.”, J.D. said. His face was sour.

“It ain’t for him, it’s for you.”, Ralph said. He shook it at J.D. a little. J.D. took it cautiously and downed a gulp. Then a another.

He handed the flask back to Ralph and said a thanks under his breath. Ralph nodded before taking a swig himself.

“I’m so sorry honey.”, J.D. said before his swing came down hard against Timmy’s leg. Blood arched out from the cut hitting both he and Ralph in the face. Timmy wailed a long cry of anguish before passing out. The crimson spray lessened into smaller pulses as the ax came down again and again. J.D. was not squeamish in the least, but the thought of having to put so much as a mark on his boy, twisted him up inside. He tried to focus on the fact that he was saving his life. He kept his mind focused on the gentlest thoughts he could muster. His attention half on the work, and half far away somewhere, imagining the taste of their first kiss. The leg was almost free. In his heart, he prayed to whatever god who might listen, this would be enough to save Timmy’s life.


	6. The Phantom Pains

It took some doing, with what little thread they had, but TK and Ruth managed to get Timmy’s leg sewed up just below the knee. With a steady rotation of Ms. Freddy’s “witches brew”, poultices and clean bandages fashioned from whatever scraps they could find, the stump where Timmy’s leg had been, healed well enough where he could bear the phantom pains.

Soon, he was almost his old self again. Regular visits from everyone else in the camp, kept him clean, fed and even entertained as he recuperated. The nights were rough, as he often tossed and turned and cried out, both in pain and in fear. The ghosts of the attack and the memories of the amputation seared in his mind.

Everyone took shifts watching over him, in case he should turn.

When he was awake, he was mostly in good spirits, but there was a part of him that was never the same. A slight dark spot on the usually sunny disposition which was his default mood. It wasn’t so much the loss of the leg, though it was tough to get used to. It was the fact J.D. had not come to see him. Not even once since the day of his operation. He knew J.D. must be doing fine, as he could smell the cooking the meals, but all requests to come talk to him, were met with no response. The others said J.D. was particularly quiet of late, and aside from his usual bear-like grunts, and a few calls to supper, he was mostly silent, sullen, and even more distant than they had ever seen him.

Timmy made his mind up that as soon as he could, he would be up and after him. He could guess at some of the reasons why J.D. might have retreated back into his shell, but what he could not understand was how he could just leave him here to guess. J.D. had always been a man of few words, but he had never shied away from the truth when it was important.

The others tried to ease his fears by letting him know how during the early part of the recovery, during the roughest nights, J.D. never left his side. He took most of the watch. In fact, it was nearly impossible to separate him from Timmy. Most attempts were met with fierce anger and threats of violence, even some not too kind words directed toward Ms. Freddy, who only came by once in a while to offer fresh salve and healing broth. He was possessive to the point where he did almost all the feeding, bathing, and changing of the bandages himself. TK was the only member of the camp he would even let assist him. Even so, it was only to help check his wound or turn him. All this done in absolute silence. Otherwise, the only sounds they were privy to were the strum of his guitar and the low baritone of his singing voice, quietly serenading Timmy to sleep every night, as the boy waffled in and out of consciousness.

While this did give Timmy some comfort knowing J.D. must surely care, at least somewhat, it was incongruent with his non-existent communication over the past couple of months.

The next few days, the others did what they could to raise Timmy’s spirits. A rousing hand of poker with TK and Patty, a chit chat with Ms. Freddy. Miss Ruth taught him how to knit and stitch, and he was a quick study. He made himself a long maroon and gold scarf and told everyone he was a member of the House of Gryffindor, to which he got little to no looks of recognition. _I can’t believe no one here has read Harry Potter,_ he thought to himself. He supposed maybe they had and none of them wanted to admit it, or they really hadn’t, in which case, he might be the only real nerd in this rag tag group.

One morning, as he sat awake, smelling the breakfast being cooked outside, he was visited by Ralph, who had brought him a pair of crutches he had whittled himself out of wood.

“I thought these would come in handy.” I’m sure you’re itching to get up outta here and get some fresh air for once.”, said Ralph.

He helped haul Timmy to his foot. Timmy took the crutches and placed one under each armpit.

“I had to guess at the height—“, Ralph began to say, but before he could finish, Timmy shot past him and was hopping out the door of the tent, nearly knocking him over as he went. He made a beeline straight for J.D. who was standing over the fire stirring up a pot of some sort of stew.

J.D. never saw him coming until Timmy was upon him, one crutch taking a hard swing through the air and belting him square across his ass. He hit J.D. so hard, the stew came free of it’s hook, the pot clattering to the ground. He nearly tumbled into the fire, almost losing his balance, before managing to right himself.

“HEY!”, Timmy said. Everyone stopped and stared. No one had ever seen him so angry.

“Were you planning on ever talking to me again, or what?!”, he bellowed. “Look at me you chicken shit son of a—“

J.D. whirled on him, and raised his arm up high to backhand his attacker. Everyone gasped. Ralph stood just outside the tent. His face dumbstruck. Timmy froze, eyes wide.

J.D.’s body was tense and vibrated with restrained anger.

Then he heard the click of a gun being cocked.

“Don’t even think about it.”, Ms. Freddy said. Her arm extended, the weapon trained at J.D.’s head.

J.D. lowered his arm, looked away from Timmy’s gaze, and toward Ms. Freddy.

Timmy tore off away from the camp. To where, he did not know, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around here.

J.D. looked off in his direction, then glanced at everyone around the camp. He let out a cry of anguish and kicked hard at the dirt, his boot dislodging a flurry of rocks and soil there. He fell to his knees.

Ms. Freddy lowered the gun and uncocked it’s hammer. She walked over to J.D. and stood behind him. He did not look up at her. He was staring off into the distance where Timmy has gone.

“You listen here. You best get your mind in line with your heart, and go after that boy. He’s been through more than his share of hell in the last few months, an’ most of it on account o’ you. Now you go find him and make it right. If you don’t bring him back here safe and at least somewhat at peace, then best you keep right on walkin’ and don’t come back…Ya here? Now git!”, she stood there a moment, thinking about raising the gun and shooting it into the air, just as J.D. got up and started to go after Timmy.

Ralph went to her side.

“You alright?”, he said.

“Fine, fine.”, she said, more ease in her voice. “It’s the rest of you grown men actin’ like children, you oughta be worrying about.”


	7. Just What Every Boy Longs To Hear

When he was a safe distance from camp, J.D. started walking a little faster, until he was almost at a run. It surprised him how far Timmy had gotten in such a short time. He was nowhere to be seen.

Now he was starting to worry. His heartbeat pounding and rising out of his chest, throbbing against his temples.

“Tim! Timmy!”, he called out. Nothing. He looked in every direction. Tried to find some sign of him. No tracks. No sign of him anywhere. Then it came to him. The treehouse.

He made a beeline for it, and the whole time, he worried maybe Timmy had been taken again. He strained to listen, but heard nothing but the sounds of nature on the early morning breeze. He was only slightly comforted by the fact that the warble of the zombie kind was noticeably absent.

“Timmy!”, he called again as he neared the treehouse site.

“What.”, came a flat reply.

“Oh thank God.”, J.D. said under his breath.

There was a stretch of silence. Then J.D. said, “Can you come down here?” There was no response. Then he said, more gently, “Honey…Please.”, his voice breaking.

With that, Timmy sat up and swung his leg around, reached out to the nearest branch, his shirt crawling up, exposing his stomach. J.D. couldn’t help but notice how the months of convalescence trimmed him down, so the cut in lines of his abs were even more prominent.

He hung there a moment, giving J.D. an even better look at his taught midriff, before dropping to his foot with a hop. He balanced himself, and managed to get hold of his crutches which were leaning up against the trunk of the tree. He propped himself against them and gave J.D, a stern look.

J.D, stood there in amazement. He wondered how the hell he managed to get up there in the first place. He was even more surprised at how deftly he got back down.

“Well—I see ya took to the whole crippled thing pretty quick there.”, he said. He felt stupid as soon as the words fumbled out of his mouth. He sniffed and coughed a bit, then spat, as he looked down at the ground, away from Timmy’s accusing glare.

“Is that all you got to say for yourself?!”, Timmy barked.

“Wh—NO!” J.D. said, then immediately regretted raising his voice. He was about to begin, but Timmy got there first, still brimming with anger and frustration.

“You mind telling me why the hell you’ve been avoiding me for the past few months?! You got any idea what it’s like stuck there in that tent, knowing you are just outside, but like—a million miles away from me?! And what the hell did I do? I mean, besides nearly dying and coming back from the brink of hell, only to find out you want nothing to do with me?!”, Timmy was shouting so loud, if there were any undead nearby, they’d surely have run the other way. His face was beet red.

“No—that’s not true at all,”, J.D. tried to say, but Timmy was not done.

“So— you’re brave enough to cut my damn leg off, but then to scared to even come check on me, because why? Why huh? You can’t tell me to my face you don’t want me anymore?”

“Now that ain’t fair. I was tryin’ to save yer life.”, J.D. argued.

“So you don’t want me because—because maybe you don’t want a cripple for a boyfriend, is that it?! And, and, AND, you raised your hand to me! Don’t you EVER do that again!” His words crumbled and he began to cry.

“Now hold on one goddamn minute here! Gimme a chance, to explain!” , J.D. shouted.

“Well start talking because you managed to keep quiet for months without any explanation whatsoever, so I’d say you got about ten more seconds to make me understand.”, Timmy croaked out, his face soaked in tears.

“I’m sorry about earlier…I lost my temper, and it wasn’t right. But I almost lost you… I can’t—I won’t do that again.”, J.D. said. He was pacing back and forth, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly in white knuckled fists. “Not again. The way I lost How— I can’t lose you too.”, he said, without looking up. He was breathing in and out, trying to remain calm.

“I came back for you!”, Timmy said. He took a few hops in J.D.s direction. He stopped short as it looked like J.D. might back away completely. J.D. looked up at him, mouth agape, attempting to form words. Timmy barreled on not allowing him to speak.

“There was a few times there, you know, where I thought maybe I shoulda just gave up. I mean, what good would I be to the camp? A useless cripple. Half a goddamn man. Best y’all should just leave me out here for z-food, rather than having a big ol’ boat anchor around your necks. Hell even Ms. Freddy is more use to you, than me.”, he said pointing harshly at his own chest.

“But even through all that, all my self doubts— I thought, maybe, just maybe, I might still have a reason to hold on. I might still have YOU. But I can see that’s not the case.”, Timmy said.

“Are you done?!”, J.D. said sharply. He did not take too kindly to being accused of something that just plain wasn’t true.

“Now this weren’t easy for me all around. Back before I hooked up with this crew, I had someone. Someone I loved very much. He gotbit. I tried to tend to him, just like I did you. Everybody in my posse told me it weren’t no use, but I didn’t listen. Same as with you. But he— turned. And there was nothing I could do. He managed to kill or turn most everyone in our town. I had to put every one o’ them down. Including him. The man I loved. Everyone and everything I had was gone. And I was never right again, since.”

J.D. looked Timmy square in the eye. He was fighting back tears.

And if it weren’t for y’alls kindness, finding me— when you did— I would’ve took myself out too.”, he said. A single tear formed a the corner of his eye, and threatened to roll down his cheek.

“I—I’m sorry.” Timmy said, but J.D. did not hear it.

“And what exactly makes you think, I give a good god damn about your leg, gone or not?!”, J.D. said. “I don’t care about yer body. Hell, you’re not even my type!”, he went on, realizing he may have gone too far off the point.

“Oh thanks a lot.”, Timmy said, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “Just what every boy longs to hear from the guy he loves.”

J.D. looked away, trying to repress a smile. Not because it was funny, but because it was true. And now, he knew he loved Timmy too. He continued to rant. He didn’t want to get cold feet. He hated expressing himself. He hated feeling so exposed, but if it was over, then it was over. What else did he really have left to lose? He began pacing again, staring down at the ground, embarrassed by his own feelings.

“Now, you know that ain’t what I meant. I ain’t ever cared so much about yer outsides as I do yer insides.”, J.D. said. “I care about the guy that pesters me every chance he gets, the guy who drives me up a goddamn wall, so much so, I can’t even think straight—the guy who can get along with damn near about everyone he meets, even and ol’ ornery cuss like me. The guy who tells the best stories, in the best possible way. The guy who never gets mad—well— not counting today—the guy who lets nothin’ keep him from smilin’— not even after he nearly dies and loses a leg! The guy who makes me laugh. Who made me smile for the first time in well, I don’t know how long.”, he looked up into Timmy’s eyes. Timmy had inched closer now. J.D. wanted to back away, but he was frozen in place. He spoke again, but this time, he was not afraid.

“You are the most frustrating, infuriating, annoyingly beautiful man I ever met. And most of all, I— I—love—“

“Shut up.”, said Timmy, sealing off J.D.’s words with a kiss.

The kiss was so deep and soulful, it made them feel merged, as if they were at last truly one with each other. It was not so much a kiss, as it was a promise.

When at last their lips unlocked, J.D. stared into Timmy’s eyes.

“Hold on to your sticks.”, he said as he smiled, and swept Timmy up in his arms, carrying him all the way back to camp… But not before he laid him down in the soft grass under the tree, and made slow and careful love to every inch of Timmy’s body. And Timmy made love to him in return. And for the fist time in a long time, Timmy felt whole.

When they finally made it home, TK saw them first, off in the distance.

“They’re back!” he shouted, grinning wide. He cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered a big “Whaaah-Hoo!”, and waved them on.

Ms. Freddy and Ralph and Ruth, came out to see J.D. carrying Timmy like a bride, and they laughed, relieved that they made it back, none the worse for wear. Everyone clapped and cheered them on. J.D. set Timmy down and then put his arm around him pulling him into a kiss.

“Well now that’s more like it.”, Ms. Freddy said. “But I believe you forgot something…”, she said loud enough to be heard over the dying applause.

“Oh—uh—right.”, J.D. said, taking off his cowboy hat, and looking sheepishly regretful. Timmy’s countenance followed suit.

“Sorry for the fighting everybody.”, they said almost in unison.

“Good…” Ms. Freddy said. “But I was referring to you getting some supper on the table. You two, been gone forever, and I don’t know ‘bout you all but I could definitely eat!”, she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” J.D. said, a rare smile crossing his face.

Everyone laughed, and J.D. went straight to work, Timmy in tow.

“Come on, hop-along.”, J.D. said. “I’m gonna need my professional taster.”

Timmy smiled up at him and gave him a two-fingered, salute.

“Wait a minute, whaddaya mean, hop-along??!”, he said, feigning ignorance. “Last one to the mushroom patch is a rotten egg!”, he said, as he came around and shot past J.D. toward the open fields.

J.D. followed close behind, but not too close. He didn’t need to catch Timmy. This was a race he felt he’d already won.


End file.
